


For My Sun & Stars

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Marriage, Polyamorous Wedding, Polyamory, ft. brief appearances by the team, proposal, the whole fluffy kit&kaboodle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9273434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: A trip to a jewellery store gives Daisy an idea...-a FitzSkimmons marriage fic





	

**Author's Note:**

> In case everything else about this fic hasn't tipped you off I want to be clear, this fic is about POLYAMOROUS FITZSKIMMONS. It's poly-positive and dripping in ooey gooey lovey fluffy goo.
> 
> If that's not your thing, move along. I don't mind either way, but hateful comments will be deleted immediately.
> 
> For those of you who are looking for poly-FSK you've come to the right place! Enjoy the sappy fluffy poly goodness. 
> 
> Set in a canon-compatible(ish) verse. Simmons reads from 'The Blessing' by Moyra and what Daisy says at the end, for those who don't know the rhyme, basically means "hurry up and eat already". And now without further ado -

inspired by [”for my sun and stars" – a fitzskimmons marriage aesthetic](http://theclaravoyant.tumblr.com/post/155525428286/for-my-sun-and-stars-a-fitzskimmons-marriage)

_there’s an order to this seemingly chaotic universe. there are laws, okay? and one of those laws says that every speck of matter that makes up every animal, vegetable, mineral - no matter how much it changes, it comes from somewhere, belongs somewhere. its natural state. its **home**_

-

Daisy ran her eyes over the sets of earrings in the jewellery shop stand. She slowly turned the wheel at the bottom of the stand, turning it around behind the glass so that she could examine the earrings on all sides. There was a pair of silver swooping swallow studs that she quite liked, but nothing that screamed JEMMA at her. The opalescent ones, though beautiful, were too big and chunky. Most of the others looked too cheap, or their symbols felt too wayward and bohemian to suit Jemma’s classical style. 

“Maybe I should get her something else,” she murmured, reluctantly backing away from the stand. “I know what clothes she likes, and what drinks.”

Fitz shook his head.

“You’ll know it when you see it. It’s always nerve-wracking buying jewellery for someone for the first time.” 

Daisy snorted. “You think that’s bad? Try buying them shoes.” 

“Interesting idea,” Fitz agreed. “Come to think of it I’ve never tried buying Jemma shoes before. How about this: you buy her jewellery and I’ll buy her shoes.”

“And she’ll get nothing she actually wants for her birthday? Ooh, that sounds _great_.”

“No, come on! I’m sure between the two of us, we can work something out. Besides, you’ve only looked at one stand full of earrings. There’s a whole shop in here, and two more in this complex. _And_ I’ve already spotted two suitable pieces.” 

Daisy narrowed her eyes. _Challenge accepted._

Of course, it fell into anticlimax after that, since jewellery shopping was not exactly the most dramatic of pursuits, but soon enough she did indeed have a few ideas in her mind. Earrings like tiny roses. A rose gold bracelet with pink sapphire inlays. A small butterfly pendant, made from one piece of silver twisted around upon itself to form the stylised outline, and on a chain short enough so that it could sit at Jemma’s collarbone without endangering her work. Daisy was quite proud of herself for having picked them out on her own – even if sometimes Fitz’ slightly too casual observation had nudged her in the right direction. They would make a mess of a set, of course, but individually they were all but perfection. It was not as if she could afford more than one piece, in most cases, anyway.

Definitely not of the rings. Her jaw dropped. 

“Oh my – Fitz – “ she spluttered, gesturing at the tray that had caught her eye. Equally curious to see an interesting find or a catastrophic failure of one, Fitz sidled over to see what Daisy was looking at.

“Rings…I’d be careful about,” he said. He’d been trying not to step on her toes, but advice was advice. “She doesn’t often wear rings while she’s working. Which is a lot.” 

“Working?!” Daisy gasped. “Oh, no, she needs to get _married_ in these!”

Apparently, classicism was back in style when it came to wedding rings. Uncumbersome bands, delicate stones – usually one, the traditional diamond, with sometimes a few either side or dotted around it. They came in silver and gold, with a variety of colours in the ensemble cast of gemstones. They came with delicate designs, filigree and settings and heart shapes interrupting the band. 

Strolling along the bench, awestruck, Daisy came to a silver band with three hearts running along it, each interlocked with the next. Her heart sunk.  
  
Fitz touched her shoulder.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah.” Daisy shrugged. Not entirely convinced, Fitz let his hand fall. 

“Did you read a price tag?” he wondered jovially. “That’s always my mistake.” 

“No,” Daisy assured him. “I mean, I might as well while the mood is dead but – “ her eyes flicked over to the other side of the store, where a salesperson was watching them flatly. In a tone closer to a whisper, she continued – “I was just thinking about marriage, that’s all, and then I thought about how we can’t. You know. Get married. Not all of us, anyway. And it wouldn’t be fair to pick just one of us, so… Nevermind. I just got excited, I guess.” 

Fitz put an arm around her shoulder as she dejectedly moved past the bench of rings. As Daisy reset her sights on the next cabinet of necklaces and earrings, Fitz glanced backward over his own shoulder. He’d got excited for a minute there too.

-

Never one to be kept down for long, Daisy rekindled her excitement in the dead of night. She crept out of bed and to the living room, so as not to disturb Fitz and Simmons as she watched her computer light up in her lap, glowing with possibilities. The beginnings of her search saw her hopes quickly dashed once again though, and while she rode the wave of it better this time around, there was nothing to be done. Multiple marriages were almost universally banned, or if not banned, shunned or only customary. Unless they married in the north of Africa and moved to the UK or New Zealand, it seemed there was no way of having a three way marriage formally recognised. And even then, the state of things seemed fairly ambiguous as to who could actually marry whom. She got the impression that in most cases a man could have many wives, but the wives couldn’t necessarily marry each other. Reading the fifth account of such a situation, Daisy screwed up her nose and pushed her computer away.

She stretched as she stood and wandered into the kitchen lazily, where she set about making a cup of coffee. It was earlier than anyone might have recommended for caffeine under normal circumstances, but her blood was already boiling too much to let her get back to sleep. Instead, Daisy found the window, Jemma’s favourite window, and looked out at the night. Light pollution, clouds and trees hid most of the stars from her so it wasn’t as dramatically melancholic as she might have preferred, but there was a warmth and a sense of hope in knowing that the sun would soon rise here. It was a very Jemma spot, Daisy thought to herself, and then she thought about the bracelet she had settled on buying – the rose gold and pink sapphire one – and realised how much it had reminded her of the sunrise. She smiled, and as she sipped her coffee and waited for the sun, her mind began to make machinations. 

By the time she finished her coffee there were still a few hours left until the sun, so Daisy returned to her laptop with a fresh and electric sense of mission. First of all, she wrote some irritated letters to a few members of Congress. They wouldn’t get anywhere, but she felt better for having mentioned it. Then she set about on her real work: finding the rings, and crafting the beginnings of a perfect proposal. 

-

The plan was relatively simple, but it took a long time to finally get around to it. Time passed in leaps and bounds. Weeks of agony waiting for the rings to arrive, and then weeks where saving the world got busy and they were all but forgotten at the bottom of a drawer. Days in a flurry of choosing the perfect venue, and then days waiting for their next R&R. Hours of being whisked around between shops and exhibitions and a show, and then the slow, slow minutes of walking into the pocket-park she’d had set up with fairy lights strung up between trees and lamp posts, and a picnic table and a wicker basket – complete with chequered tea-towel – in which their meal awaited. There was a bottle of champagne and three glasses and three candles, waiting to be lit. And a rose in a vase. 

Jemma’s jaw dropped. 

“Daisy!” she gasped, awestruck, “what is all this?” 

Fitz had his eyes upward, studying the lighting. In the city it was hard to see the stars, but the lights made for a beautiful substitute.

“I know it’s super cheesy,” Daisy confessed, “but I wanted to make this night really special.” 

“Oh my god.” Jemma bit her lip and danced on the spot. Fitz felt his face flush as he met Daisy’s eyes. She lit the candles slowly and he could see her hands were shaking, just a little. His jaw loosened. 

“No way,” he murmured. 

“What?” Jemma glanced between the two of them. “Fitz? Do you know something about this?” 

“Not exactly,” Daisy assured her. “Now, um. There’s not a lot of literature on how to do this for two so just bear with me.”

She knelt, and from each pocket produced a box small enough to fit in her palm. She had practiced a few times, of course, but with her heart a few inches too high in her chest she was beginning to feel a little lightheaded, and one of the boxes tumbled to the ground. 

“Ah, Jemma, do you mind – “ she nodded to the box, and Jemma took it and opened it, and gasped.

“Daisy!! It’s beautiful!” 

“Cheater!” Daisy yelped. “You’re supposed to listen to the speech first!” 

“Sorry.” Jemma dutifully dropped the box back into Daisy’s open hand, but she didn’t close it. Fitz couldn’t help but let his eyes get drawn to it: a gold band with a twist of silver at the fitting, and dotted with three ruby hearts. It shone richly in the light surrounding them and he was sure that in full daylight it would only be more impressive. He held his breath, feeling his heart was already full to bursting, and Jemma clung to his arm tightly, blinking back tears before Daisy had even begun. 

“Look, I’m really bad at this and we’re all hungry,” Daisy began, “so I’ll keep it brief. As you know…I spent a lot of my life bouncing around from place to place. Being bounced, really, against my will. And even though a lot of that was done to try and protect me, it still sucked and I was still alone. I was alone, really, until I met you. And somehow, you loved me. You really did, both of you, and you welcomed me like I had never been welcomed anywhere before. You put your jobs on the line for me, and your lives, and even each other and…I mean, wow. That’s some dedication.” Choking up, she took a deep breath and skipped a few hesitantly planned sentences, jumping to the end.

“What I’m trying to say is I bounced around a lot and I burned a lot of bridges, or had them burnt for me, and I never went back. Sometimes because I couldn’t. Sometimes I didn’t want to. But not you. I always came back to you two, even when I didn’t want to – or maybe, when I didn’t know I wanted to. And you always had me back. And I think it was you, Fitz, who said the other day that no matter how something changes it comes from somewhere, it belongs somewhere. I come from Shield and I belong here. I belong with you. You two are my home and I hope you will be my home for a long time. I love you.” 

She blinked, and Jemma took the open ring box and with her free hand, she opened the other and held it up to Fitz. 

“Daisy…” he breathed, and took it, awestruck. 

“Screw what the law says,” Daisy continued. “Governmental registration’s done sweet all for me anyway. I want this and I’m hoping you do to, so…Fitz. Simmons. FitzSimmons.” She paused to stifle a smirk. “Will you marry me?”

Jemma was already nodding furiously, and squeaked out, _Yes!_ as soon as she was able. The instant Daisy stood, Jemma flung her arms around her neck until they were spinning, and until they’d kissed each other breathless, and Daisy staggered drunkenly away until Fitz caught her. 

A few moments passed in silence, and Daisy found the flood of warmth subsiding, giving way to just the slightest whisper of hesitation before Fitz smiled and whispered, _yes, of course,_ and kissed her so fervently she almost thought her knees would give out underneath her. 

Jemma popped the champagne and the giddiness came back, and there were more kisses and laughter and the whole tale of Daisy’s ordeal to find the rings and decide on the occasion was told and interrupted and retold over French and Italian cuisine – one of which, Daisy explained, but she couldn’t remember which one – Jemma had once declared ‘the most romantic food of all time.’ 

-

For a few weeks, they were content like that. Insufferably so, in fact. Jemma had her red and gold ring that shone as rich as fire. Fitz had his; smooth titanium except for a hardy but simple diamond, and comprised of an outer ring that turned around an inner one for when he was feeling fidgety. Fitz and Jemma even sourced one for Daisy, a thin silver band inset with alternating small diamonds and deep purple amethyst all the way around. They showed them off and fawned over them and babbled to whoever would listen about their cheesy romantic evening or how they met or any and all of that romantic nonsense people tended to ask – whether they asked or not. They took great pride in showing the rings off to each other too; when Daisy held Jemma’s hips watching the sunrise, they lay their hands and their rings over each other. When Fitz leaned in the doorway of Jemma’s room, it was always the hand with the ring on it that clung to whatever he was hanging off, glinting in silent pride. When Fitz and Daisy held hands, they switched sides regularly, to the annoyance of many that they met in the halls. 

“Ah, young love,” Mack sighed once, as he rolled up a set of foam earplugs and tossed another to May, which she caught without looking.

Soon enough though, for three eager young lovers who already lived and worked together and who already spent every waking moment as engaged as possible, there didn’t seem to be much point in waiting a year for marriage just because that’s what other people did. 

“We have to do it properly though,” Jemma insisted, “so we will need at least three months.” 

“Of _course,”_ Fitz said, mimicking her lavish enthusiasm. 

“We’ll need three separate dates and venues, more like,” Daisy snorted, “knowing how often things get derailed around here.” 

Fitz held up his hand as though taking an oath. “I solemnly swear not to get sucked into any parallel universes, realms or dimensions, or become possessed, or be kidnapped or killed for any extended period of time. Or at least until June.”

“At least until June,” the girls repeated, like the Church participation of a prayer. They grinned at their own private joke and then Fitz checked his watch, stood up and bowed. 

“Farewell, my sun and stars. Unfortunately, robots don’t build themselves yet so I must leave the ceremony in your faithful hands.” He kissed their outstretched hands like a gentleman of old and grinned as he headed for the door with a bounce in his step. Then the girls set to work: Daisy pulling magazines and colour schemes and cuttings out all around them as Jemma poured the iced tea. 

“Iced tea…”Daisy mused, settling back into her seat and examining their options as she lazily dipped and stirred a straw through her drink. “A summer wedding? Beach, maybe?” 

“Put it on the list!” Jemma declared, “although personally I think Fitz would prefer somewhere with a little less sand. Or at least if we could find a beach where the wind doesn’t blow the sand in your eyes.” 

“No sand eyes, got it,” Daisy said, making a note of it though she couldn’t help but roll her eyes a little and smile at Jemma’s fastidiousness. A beach where sand blew wind into ones eyes had hardly been at the top of her list in making the suggestion. But perhaps a beach wedding was the wrong way to go altogether – or at least, maybe not as a theme. 

“Ah,” Jemma sighed, pulling the nearest bridal magazine onto her lap. “Can you imagine how much fun this is going to be? And I mean, all the more fun for not having to track down a civil celebrant and all that nonsense. Oh, and can you imagine, trying to prove our identities to the state?” She shook her head. “I’ll take rose petals and tulle any day over an hour in some bureaucrat’s office.” 

“Hear hear.” Daisy’s heart lifted a little, the twist of bitterness unknotting itself slightly. But not enough to deter her from sending a picture of their wedding to a few members of Congress.

Jemma laughed. “What are you thinking about? Fitz’ bachelor party? You don’t get to be best man and bride at your own wedding. Mm. Should’ve thought of that.”

“Petty satisfaction, Jemma dearest,” Daisy assured her. “Nothing you need concern your pretty little head about. Although I’m going to add ‘find a maid of honour’ to the list because I don’t know about you but I thought we had a thing going.” 

“We really didn’t plan this well, did we?” Jemma laughed. “Ooh look here I found a list of themes. ‘James Bond – slash – secret agent’, well we’ve got that covered. ‘A day at the races’ – we have no horses and in my opinion, racing is cruel.”

“Mine too.” 

“Hmm…Doctor Who? Fun, but no. Pretty in pink? Mmm. Rainbow of memories? Maybe we could finally buy May that jacket made of pom-poms.”

“Yes, and then she can throw up on it because that is a hideous idea! Give me that!”

Daisy snatched the magazine out of Jemma’s hands and the two of them argued well into the afternoon, but the list of ideas got so much longer they almost started another argument about whether or not to buy a wedding binder or binders and if so, how many. They decided to go for a run instead. The next morning, Daisy decided she had to finally start giving proper credit to Jemma’s insistence that exercise was good for the mind, because as they watched the sunrise together, something beautiful happened.

“My sun and stars,” Jemma murmured thoughtfully, turning the words over in her mind. “I rather like that.” 

She raised her hand from her hip so that she could study it, and Daisy’s moved along with it. Their rings glinted together in the new morning light. Gold and silver. Red and purple. The bright colours of the sun and the rich, cool night. Intertwined eternally.

Looking over her shoulder, Daisy hummed with satisfaction. 

“I rather like it too.”

-

After that, it all fell into place rather easily. With Mack’s help, Fitz created hundreds of lanterns, and sound equipment, and made table settings and a stage and all manner of trappings. He also gleefully participated, of course, in the cake and menu tasting, which was delegated for the most part to Coulson and Elena. May was the designed Maid of Honour, and while a little disappointed they didn’t get the slightly trashy sitcom dramatics they’d been hoping for (just a little) Daisy and Jemma were pleasantly surprised to find that May’s keen eye and cryptic manner served them well while negotiating the flood of wedding-related salespeople.

“My job is to make sure you get what you want,” she explained. “Not what they’re trying to sell you.”

It was effective, and more satisfying than they could ever deliberately explain. (Though their occasional overwhelmed screeching and near-constant beaming said enough for May). They ended up with matching dresses - one in gold, one in dark blue. Perfect shoes. Hairpins, for which they’d spent an eternity searching, in the shapes of the stars and suns. Stunning enough that they weren’t even put off when their search for Fitz’ outfit turned out somewhat less spectacular. It was hard to theme a man’s outfit without making him look ridiculous.

“Well,” May said as the girls perused a rack of suits. “It’s not his fault men’s clothing is dull as a brick.”

“Oh, and you experiment with the variety available in women’s clothing _constantly,_ I suppose?” Daisy teased. 

“I know what I like.”

“Clothes that don’t show bloodstains?” Jemma put in. May almost smirked into the suits. 

“I was going to say this bowtie,” she suggested instead, changing the topic. The material looked blue at first, but on second glance, was in fact decorated by a smattering of green, purple and white specks, like stars in a galaxy.  
  
“Perfect!” Jemma declared. 

“You heard the woman,” Daisy agreed. 

- 

Finally, everything was ready and it was like breathing a sigh of relief. The park had chairs and lanterns marking the isles, lighting it up with stars in the early evening. A small raised dais marked the front where Coulson stood, beaming with joy, waiting to welcome everybody into the fold. At Daisy’s insistence, Fitz’ mother and Jemma’s parents sat in the front row, in pride of place. Mack and Elena were there too, and a few other friends and colleagues that had helped them all along their journey to this place. There was a row of empty chairs too, reserved in silent dedication to their friends who had not made it this far with them.

“It’s a lot smaller than I thought,” Daisy whispered. May checked her hair and the fall of her skirt. 

“It is a circle of special people. That’s all we can ask for.”

Daisy nodded. Her heart felt a little broken at the prominence of those empty seats, but in the open air she could see Jemma and Fitz waiting at the end of their isles. The real reasons for this whole thing in the first place.

“Are you ready?” 

The music started playing and Jemma and Fitz started making their way toward the centre podium down their own isles. Daisy felt her heart leap into her chest all of a sudden.

“Wait, where’s the-“

She turned to look at May, and felt something pressed into her hand. The leash of a beaming Golden Retriever, to whose back was strapped a pillow and three delicately tied rings. 

“Something borrowed,” May whispered. Tears sprung to Daisy’s eyes as she remembered her father’s smiling face; unable to recognise her, but finally at peace in the world. _That’s a nice name,_ he’d said. 

May pushed the small of her back a little, and Daisy realised the others were waiting. She jogged down the isle with an apologetic blush, and the dog gambolled along beside her. When they reached their destination he stood until all the rings had been untied, and then sat, panting and grinning at the audience, casual as anything, unaware of the thrumming hearts in love above him.

They moved through the formalities quickly, as most were to do with religious and legally binding elements of the ceremony. Yet for the three standing at the altar, even this quickly felt too long. When at last it came time for Fitz to speak, it felt like unravelling a knot, and the amiable patience turned into hushed anticipation. He pulled a set of note cards out of his pocket, but did not read them, and the audience waited for him to find his voice.

“Jemma,” he began at last. “It has been a pleasure and an honour to know you all these years, and I am so grateful to have had you in my life – as my worthy adversary, my partner, my dearest friend. You challenge and inspire me every day and I cannot wait to start this next stretch of our journey together. And it only makes me happier to have another dear friend join us this time around. 

“And Daisy - I remember when Jemma first tried to drag me into the field. I kicked and screamed, bitched and moaned, dug my heels in. I’m sure she could tell you some terrific stories about it - she probably already has – but anyway, she kept at it and as usual, she was right. Since joining this team I have experienced some of the worst, yes, but also some of the best moments and experiences of my life. I’ve been to South America. I’ve built a _billion dollar plane_ with my bare hands. And…I met you. We met you. 

“You were a force of nature right from the beginning. I mean, before you became a literal force of nature.” He snorted and Daisy bit her lip, smiling but afraid to let her emotions overwhelm her. “You made me a more daring person and in no small part, that’s why I’m standing here today with two of the most amazing women on this planet and any other. You’re a remarkable soul and a kindred spirit, and I thank you for sharing so much of yourself with me.”

Daisy nodded, blinking her eyes and dabbing at her cheeks. 

“Damn, dude, come on,” she rasped. “You’re ruining my make-up.” 

The audience chuckled and guffawed briefly and then settled, waiting for her words. 

“Um. These guys have already heard most of what I wanted to say, fortunately because I’m not sure how long I’m going to last up here but – I guess what I wanted to say the most is that. I love you. I love both of you so much and I can’t believe in this big crazy world that I found you, and I haven’t lost you yet. I don’t know how much of that is luck and how much is pure determination but I know I’ll hold onto it as long as I can. You’re…so smart – I mean seriously, these guys are freaking geniuses – and you’re such good people, and you always want the best for me. 

“Whether its spending hours crafting the perfect wedding lanterns –“ she gestured above their heads, to Fitz’ handiwork – “or nagging me to eat my vegetables or not tear my stitches because I’ve gone and got myself shot or some nonsense – “ she met Jemma’s eyes with a bashful grin, “I couldn’t ask for two more dedicated guardians and lovers.

“You are my home, both of you. Oh geez, here come the waterworks I’d better get on with it. But you are- you are my safe place. My place to rest. I need you and I’m glad every day that you both decided that you need me too. And…Yep, that’s it. That’s all I’ve got. Somebody take the mic here. Jemma?”

Jemma laughed. Her cheeks shone with tears before she even began.

“Looks like I drew the short straw here. Perhaps we should have practiced or read each other’s vows before hand. Wow.” 

She wiped at her cheeks and laughed breezily. 

“Daisy. I’m so, so glad you found a home with us and I hope we’re where your heart is for a long time to come. But I hope you know you’re part of home for us too, now. You helped us find our dream home and there’s nothing more important in a dream home than having everyone you love under one roof. It wouldn’t be the same without you. _We_ wouldn’t be the same without you, so thank you, and Fitz – 

“Fitz. You’re a wonderful man and I know we’ve put each other through a lot over the years but we always come out stronger somehow and I’m so grateful for that. Thank you for helping me find the path when I couldn’t always see it. I hope I’ve returned the favour a good few times. You have a beautiful, beautiful heart and I’m so glad a piece of it is mine. And I couldn’t think of a better person to share it with than Daisy. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to end with a piece of poetry before we do the final part with the rings and such. It’s called ‘The Blessing.’”

She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing it up from her memory.

 

 _By the starlight that is spun in your eyes_  
_By the moonlight that lights our path_  
 _By the soft gentle rain that brought us here_  
 _I give my heart to you this night._

_In blue eyes as deep as a summer shadow  
In brown eyes that reflect the bottomless of night,  
_ _There in their eyes spin the stars of my heart.  
_ _Within them I am reflected._

_The Lady has blessed us with her light,  
_ _The gentle rain that fell cleansed our weary hearts,  
_ _In their eyes she has placed the stars  
_ _To guide me through the night._

When she finished, there was a heavy hush as everyone present let the words wash over them and sink in. Fitz and Daisy took one each of Jemma’s hands, and after a long moment, Coulson began to speak. 

“Do you, Leopold Fitz, Daisy Johnson and Jemma Simmons, take each other to be your faithfully wedded partners, to have and to hold, from this day forward? For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” 

“I do.” 

“I do.” 

“I do.”

Each took a ring, and slipped it onto the finger of the partner to their left. Coulson smiled at how smoothly it went, only to realise then that the last of his duties would not go so smoothly.

“Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you…husband and wife and wife. You may kiss…whoever you like, I guess. First in, best dressed.” 

They laughed, and made a round-robin of kissing until all three of them had kissed each other. It didn’t make for a sweeping gesture, but a Kodak moment of three beaming faces was as good as anything. When they were ready, the lights overhead dimmed to a silvery rather than golden glow, like the stars at night, and Coulson switched from wedding celebrant to chief caterer. He stepped down from the dais and gestured for the chairs to be moved aside, and an array of food five times too large for their small party was brought into the space. 

“At the request of the brides and groom, this part of the evening is a public affair, so those who need to, watch your tongues, and for everyone else –“

“Two four six eight!” Daisy shouted. The dog at her heels barked enthusiastically. Coulson bowed and got out of their way.

 


End file.
